


Thomas Has Had A Long Day

by cazei



Series: A Series Of Long Days [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is rlly odd, And OOC, I don't know what this is still, JAMES IS SICK, James is rlly sick, M/M, Thomas is rlly gay, sick!James, thomas is a sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 07:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazei/pseuds/cazei
Summary: "'James is not a weakness of mine,' Thomas says, physically drawing in on himself.'He is,' Alex says certainly.He is, Jefferson thinks.'He isn’t,' Jefferson says. "-Alexander Has Had A Long Day from Jefferson's perspective-Can be read alone or with the rest of the series





	

**Author's Note:**

> wow two in two days  
> i still don't know what either of these are 
> 
>  
> 
> making words is difficult

Today was not looking up. First, James texted him. At three A.M.:  
_Three Unread Messages_  
From: Jem  
hiya tommy  
due to the small fact that I just threw up twice, and have a fever of 102, I doubt I’ll be in class tomorrow  
don’t kill a.ham

Secondly, he doubted that he could listen to that last text. The teen himself, Alexander Hamilton, kept pestering him all through History.

After another comment is directed to him, he knows it, Thomas grits his teeth and responds.

“You’re wrong,” Thomas says. Alexander grins at his response and launches into a long-winded answer for why, no, Jefferson, I most certainly am not.

But, the thing is, he was wrong. Jefferson knew it, the class knew it, and, deep, deep down, Alexander had to know it. And when Alex knows he’s losing, it’s never good.

After Jefferson’s usually-argument-ending final point, Alexander grins deviously. Oh, no, Jefferson thinks.

"Did you forget that fact? Huh, I guess James isn’t here to help you. Hell, even if he was here, the sickness has probably gone to his brain at this point, and I doubt it would help.”

Jefferson doesn’t think—That’s a lie. However, all he’s thinking is how much he’d like to bury Hamilton’s body where they’d never find it—he acts. Lurching forward, he hits Hamilton in the nose.

Rolling his shoulders, Thomas accepts his soon detention for punching another student in class. He waits for the punch to be returned, but it never is.

Alex speaks first, his voice muffled from the blood. “I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinks rapidly, “You’re what?”

“I went too far,” Alex says, still holding his nose.

Thomas is still blinking, and he’s sure it’s his only bodily function that works. His brain has clearly stopped its thought process, and his heart is surely no longer producing blood.

Before he can ask what the hell is wrong with you, Alexander, or did I hit you that hard, the teacher is directing Alex out of the door, to the office.

Thomas spends the rest of the hour, slumped in his chair thinking about Hamilton’s odd behavior.

At lunch, Thomas checks in with James.

Thomas: hey, jem  
Thomas: You awake?  
Jem: Regretfully  
Thomas: Take a nap  
Jem: mehh  
Thomas: You’re hopeless.  
Jem: why thank you  
Jem: Angie said that you hit Alex again  
Thomas: ah, about that  
Jem: What happened?  
Thomas: he was being rude, I reacted before I thought  
Jem: haha, so like usual then?  
Thomas: shusshhh  
Thomas: is it alright if I come over after school to drop your stuff off?  
Jem: I’m contagious, tommy  
Thomas: Hasn’t stopped me yet  
Jem: nothing I say is going to stop you, is it?  
Thomas: No, probably not  
Jem: See you then, then!  
Thomas: haha, yeah  
Thomas: whoops I’m late to 5th hour, gtggggg  
Jem: R i p

Thomas, forgetting about his strange encounter with Alexander, thinks nothing of it when he follows him out of their 7th-hour classroom.

Then, Alex calls his name. And begins to run, nearly spilling his coffee.

“I need to talk to you!” He gasps. This startles Thomas, causing him to quickly glance in Alexander’s direction.

“You what?” He asks, even more confused and defensive.

"I think I know why I apologized earlier!" Alex says. Huh, Jefferson thinks, I guess he didn’t know either.

Thomas displays his apprehension by crossing his arms. “Why?”  
"I think I need to stop using Madi--James against you."

"You think?"

"No, I mean, I’ll find other weaknesses of yours."

"James is not a weakness of mine,” Thomas says, physically drawing in on himself.

"He is,” Alex says certainly.

He is, Jefferson thinks.

“Isn’t,” Jefferson says.

Alexander frowns. "Why are you denying it? He’s your best friend!”

Thomas feels guilt settle in his stomach as he stutters, "I-I don’t have weaknesses."

Apparently, arguing is how the two best communicate because Alexander starts listing proofs.  
"You never get truly angry until I make fun of him. Once, a football player made fun of him. You, somehow, got him kicked off the team. You always take his notes for him when he's sick, despite never taking them on your own.”

Thomas knows where this is leading, and fear makes tears prick the back of his eyes as he says, "Alex, stop.”  
Alex, evidently, doesn’t. "I’d never seen you show affection or positive emotion towards anything until the 8th Grade DC trip. You made sure his food was safe for him, oh, you also know all his allergies, and you made sure he got fed before you ate your own. Every night on the bus you let him lean on you so he could sleep. You never did, I remember."

"Alex," Thomas begs. He can see Alex start to connect the dots, nearly revealing to him his biggest secret. "Please."

"I don’t see how you can’t consider him a weakness! That’s not a bad thing! You’re practically in love with him!" Alex cries.

This is it, Thomas thinks, this is the day I die.

Alex’s eyes widen. "Oh, my god. You’re-you…You’re actually in love with him."

"Stop talking, Alex," Thomas says, his voice portraying more confidence than he has.

"That’s. Wow, I really should have seen this coming. Gotta says, Jefferson, you’ve surprised me,” Alex says, giving Thomas an appreciative nod.

“Good,” Thomas says, bluntly, "Now, can we never speak of this again?"

Alex grows still. "You…You haven’t told him, have you?"

"Of course not! He’d never speak to me again! Like, ever. I couldn’t handle that, Hamilton. I really couldn’t.”

It isn’t a lie; they both know it.

"You’re really stupid, aren’t you?"

"…I’m sorry?"

"God," Alex mutters to himself. "This is breaking all my rules.” To Thomas, he says, "Jefferson, he’s in love with you, too."

"Ignorance doesn’t suit you, Alexander,” Thomas says, ignoring the rush of blood to his face. From embarrassment or something more, neither know.

"I’m serious! He doesn’t take charity. Not from anyone. Before you moved here, he and I were friends. Kind of. He never let me give him anything. With you? He lets you help him, probably because it makes you happy. He is always with you. He always defends you, even when you’re not in the room and completely wrong. You guys are like-like black and white, Yin and Yang, ocean and sky. You have to believe me, I’m not saying it again,” Alex has begun to ramble, as he usually does when he argues.

"How can I know you aren’t lying to me?" Thomas says. His voice is sharp, like a knife made of perfectly cut obsidian. "To make me confess to him, he’ll reject me, and you’ll win."

Alex shakes his head, looking annoyed at himself. Or Jefferson. "Look, I’m helping you on this. It’ll never happen again, and I don’t know why it’s happening now. I swear or my life-"

"No, not your life."

"-I swear on my, John, and John’s turtles life that I’m not lying to you. I truly believe that he loves you, too.”

Wow, Thomas thinks. He really is serious.

Thomas unlocks his car.

"If you’re lying to me, Alexander," Thomas says darkly, "you are going to be very unlucky.”

If you live long enough, Jefferson adds in his mind.

Alex nods; Tom drives away.

Halfway to James’ house, Thomas considers going back, back to his house, or to Alexander’s to kill him, anywhere but Madison’s house. But, he knows this is equivalent to telling Alexander that he’s scared him, and that’ll never happen.

Stopping at a gas station, Thomas buys a gaterade for James that he knows Eleanor and James Sr. wouldn’t have had time, or extra money, really, to buy for him.

Nelly, James’ seven-year-old sister, opens the door for him, grinning when she sees Thomas’ face.

“Thomas!” She says. “I knew you would come over.”

“Did you?”

“You always come over when Jamie’s not feeling good.”

This does not help his nerves, Thomas decides.

“He’s in his room, right?” He asks, hoping to get away.

“Yeah,” Nelly says. “But, we’re not s’pposed to go in there. Momma says he’s contagious.”

“Well, I actually have super powers, so I’ll be fine, Nells,” Thomas says, seeing her worried face.

It works, and she grins. “Really? That’s so cool!”

Thomas ruffles her hair before standing up straight.

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Thomas asks. “I’m gonna to talk to ‘Jamie’.”

She grins again, and Thomas notices a missing tooth. “Make ‘im better,” Is all she says.

Thomas nods, serious, and walks up the stairs, past all the doors to the Madison siblings room, and straight to James’. He knocks softly.

“You can come in, Thomas,” James calls, slightly weakly. Thomas enters.

The room is dimly lit, James’ curtain is pulled shut. James is in the process of sitting against his headboard. There is a thermometer on his side table, several books on his bed, and a waste basket near his bed.

“Hey, Jemmy,” Thomas says quietly, assuming James’ has a headache.

James yawns and stretches, raising his arm above his sleep-addled head. “Hi, Thomas.”

Thomas extends the drink to James. James blinks up at him, smiling softly.

“Thanks,” he says. Thomas distracts himself by sorting his and James’ papers, putting James’ in a pile on the foot of his bed. After this, he explains each and every assignment. In great, great detail.

Somehow, he wound up sitting next to James, leaning against his headboard. James’ fever-warmed head rests on his shoulder. Thomas gently shoves his head off and sits so he’s facing James, who looks suddenly concerned.

“Tommy, is something wrong?” James asks before Thomas can say anything.

“Yes,” Thomas says immediately. “No. I mean. Yes, no. I-I don’t know yet. I, uh, I think I have to tell you something? Well, Alexander does, anyway, and-“

“Woah,” James says. “One thing at a time. What do you, or Alexander, have to tell me?”

“I-I,” Thomas begins to ramble further. “James, you are my best friend. Always have been, always will be. I-I don’t know how this is going to affect anything, but I’d rather it didn’t. I just, I just have to say this, I….I-uh, oh, my god, why is this so hard,” Thomas’ voice fades off.

“Thomas?” James says before coughing. “What’s wrong? What have I done?”

Thomas’ eyes widen. “No, it was most certainly, definitely not you. Well, kinda, but it’s not your fault.”

“What is it?” James says, still confused and worried.

This is it. Goodbye, James.

“I love you,” Thomas says.

“I know,” James says, still confused, "I love you, too. You're my best friend, Thomas, of course I love you. What does this have to do with anything? Do you need me to do something fo-“

Thomas cuts off James’ mouth with his own.

Quickly, James pulls back.

Ignoring his falling face and dropping heart, Thomas says, “I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again. Oh, god, James. Really, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“Thomas,” James interrupts quietly. Thomas looks at him, an apologetic look in his eye. “I wasn’t rejecting you.”

Thomas’ heart just did a marathon.

“You’re…You’re not?” Thomas says, confused.

“I’m contagious, you idiot! You’re going to get sick!” James exclaims, face still flushed.

Thomas leans forward slowly. “You’re not rejecting me?”

“I’m not.”

“So…I can do,” Thomas kisses him on the lips quickly, before pulling back, “this?”

James let’s out a breathy laugh. “Of course. I like you, too, Thomas. Just, not when I’m sick okay?”

Thomas stops his words by kissing James’ on the nose.

“Can’t stop now,” Thomas says. “I’m making up for lost time.”

 

Lying, curled on the bed with James’ head on his stomach, his hand playing with James’ sleeping head of curls, Thomas begins to cough.


End file.
